


End in Burning Flames or Paradise

by BeccaBear93



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: (but not really), Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Crossdressing, Feminization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, Lack of Communication, M/M, Misunderstandings, Smut, Song: Style (Taylor Swift)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaBear93/pseuds/BeccaBear93
Summary: Cloud keeps falling back, landing in Andrea's bed again and again, no matter how much he tries not to, no matter how wrong it is or how it breaks a little piece of him each time.
Relationships: Andrea Rhodea/Cloud Strife
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? I have no idea! :D
> 
> Seriously though, this is... very different from anything I usually write, especially for this pairing, since they've kind of become my go-to for happy fluffy stuff. But I was listening to Taylor Swift's "Style" and it (not so much the chorus as the other verses and the music itself) really, really inspired me to write something. And this is what came out. (Also, although I'm not a huge fan of the music video, I did think the all-white outfit theme was an interesting choice, so that's also a thing here.) It's also pretty heavily inspired by a certain scene from chapter 4 of MoonlightPastime's incredible fic, Delivery (from Strife).
> 
> Fair warnings that smut is... not exactly my forte (in fact, this was one of the most difficult things I've ever written because of it tbh), and that there is a decent dose of angst here, though the ending will be... happier than the other option was lol

Everyone’s got a dirty little secret or two, but Cloud never thought he would. Yet here he is, sneaking out of his apartment at midnight, creeping past Tifa’s and down the stairs, avoiding the one that squeaks. Andrea meets him at the edge of Sector 7 without a word, handing over the lumpy bag in his arms and standing guard outside the public restroom while Cloud changes. Pretties himself up. Underwear, padded bra, loose blouse, tight skirt—all white tonight, and he wonders for a minute whether Andrea’s trying to make some sort of point with that. If he is, it’s lost on Cloud—he doesn’t even really want to think on it long enough to figure out what it is.

The hair and makeup take longer; he’s still getting used to doing this, hands not quite as steady with an eyeliner pencil or curling iron as they are with a sword. It’s worth it in the end though, and he lets himself savor the sight of the attractive young woman in the mirror for just a few moments. Then he shoves his other clothes into the bag, slips on the strappy silver heels, and heads back out.

Andrea’s leaning against the wall, but straightens up with a half-smile when he sees Cloud. “Gorgeous as always,” he whispers, taking the bag and offering his arm.

The blond takes it without argument, and they start the long walk back to Sector 6. He walks with a different kind of confidence like this, holds his chin high and doesn’t shy away from the heads he turns, from the few people who are still out on the roads at this hour. “They’re all jealous of my girl,” Andrea murmurs.

Cloud smiles a bit, looks up through his lashes, shudders at the way the other man’s eyes darken. Cloud knows that he’s a prideful, shameful thing like this, but Andrea has never done anything at all to discourage it.

They stop at a tiny 24-hour diner on the way, a parody of a date for no other reason than to bide time, let the tension grow. Cloud eats slowly, careful not to ruin the bright red lipstick that makes up the only splash of color in his whole ensemble. He doesn’t take a drink, too worried about it smudging, until Andrea’s eyes narrow in concern and he pushes the glass of water toward him. Cloud rolls his eyes but obeys the silent request.

Silent requests, entire silent conversations. These nights are _filled_ with silence, only occasionally broken by whispers. Both of them so afraid to shatter the fragile illusions they’ve built up.

When Cloud finally finishes eating, they leave, and he feels the anticipation ratchet up a few more notches, because he knows how this ends. They reach Andrea’s apartment and he leads Cloud in by the hand, crowds him up against the door as soon as it’s closed and he’s kicked his shoes off. Kisses him until he’s breathless and then moves on to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He sucks a mark into the skin there, and Cloud spares half a second’s thought for how he’ll manage to hide it _again_.

He wraps a hand around the back of Andrea’s neck to guide him back up for another long kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing his moan. Then Cloud pushes him away, just enough to circle around him and take his hand, lead him back to the bedroom. Drags his teeth along his bottom lip just to watch Andrea’s eyes catch on the motion. Doesn’t fight it when Andrea pushes him back up against the wall only halfway down the hall.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, honey?” Andrea rasps into his neck, and yeah, Cloud’s got some idea, because Andrea’s already rutting against him and they’ve barely gotten started. Flattery of all kinds is a heady drug.

Cloud gasps (something in the back of his mind always still aware enough to pitch his voice a little higher) and lets his head fall back against the wall with a quiet thud when Andrea kisses the sensitive spot behind his ear and slips a hand up under the skirt. He follows the tug, hitches his leg up around Andrea’s waist and pulls him even closer. Rolls his hips up with a breathy moan once, twice before shaking his head. “Bed,” he insists.

Andrea nods and flashes him a grin before grabbing both of Cloud’s thighs to wrap them around him. The blond lets out an undignified noise and glares, but the pink on his cheeks makes it utterly ineffectual. His lover pushes him further into the wall to hold his weight until he finds his balance, arms around Andrea’s neck and ankles hooked together behind his back. A slight nod, and then he’s carried into the room and laid carefully on the bed.

Andrea stays close, kneeling between Cloud’s legs to kiss him deeply, run his hands over Cloud’s arms, legs, stomach, every inch of his body that he can get to. He pauses at his chest with a wicked grin and squeezes through the shirt and bra. Cloud moans long and loud, more from the implications than any real sensitivity. The other man leans closer, lips pressed to his ear, and Cloud has some idea of what’s coming even before the words leave his mouth. “I love seeing how much you love having your tits played with, gorgeous,” he murmurs, and a quiet, high-pitched noise works its way out of Cloud’s throat.

(They haven’t actually _talked_ about this, haven’t talked about much of anything really, but Andrea had taken a calculated risk one night, seen the way Cloud’s eyes widened and cheeks burned, and latched onto it with a vengeance ever since.)

Cloud tugs at the hem of Andrea’s shirt, and he leans back to pull it off before pushing Cloud back into the bed. The blond lets his hands wander as the other man sucks another bruise into his throat, down his shoulders and chest and back up over his back, dragging his nails lightly over his skin for the way it makes Andrea shiver. He stretches to open the drawer of the nightstand, reaches for the lube he knows is there. After a few seconds of blind fumbling, Andrea chuckles lowly and crawls over him to grab it himself, along with a condom. (They hadn’t used protection at first. A stupid mistake, and Cloud had insisted on it after he found out—He shakes his head, biting Andrea's lip and willing his thoughts back to the present. To this night, and nothing before or beyond, because that way lies madness and misery.)

Andrea slides his panties off and takes his precious time prepping him. Cloud gasps his way through it, never quite feeling like there’s enough air to draw into his lungs, and when Andrea finds his prostate he stops breathing entirely for a few moments, head thrown back against the pillow and back arching off the bed. He catches smirking amber eyes when he pries his own open again, and nips at Andrea’s lip in revenge, tugging just hard enough to earn a quiet groan, but it doesn’t discourage him. If anything, Andrea seems determined to tease him for even longer.

Cloud loses his patience eventually (which was probably Andrea’s plan the whole time, but one that he’s happy to play along with). He smirks, and before the other man’s even aware of what’s happening, he’s hitting the mattress underneath Cloud with a surprised exhale. The blond leans down for a kiss before he crawls down Andrea’s body to tug off his pants and boxers, dropping them to the floor behind him. Then he sits back up and slips off his own shirt, arching his back and making a bit of a show of it when he feels Andrea’s appreciative gaze. He leaves the bra and skirt on. Hesitates before tugging off the heels and dropping them with a clatter, would keep them on too if he hadn’t already learned the hard way that a bad foot cramp could ruin the mood far too easily.

Cloud climbs back onto the bed and straddles Andrea’s lap, skirt riding up. He stares down at him for a long moment, letting his eyes roam, and can’t quite resist the urge to steal another kiss. Rolls his hips and laughs lightly against Andrea’s lips when it earns him a gasp and a sudden bruising grip on his thighs. He takes the hint; unlike Andrea, Cloud has no interest in teasing for long. He tears open the condom wrapper and grabs for the lube again, scooting back to impatiently slick Andrea’s cock before tossing the bottle back to the bed. His lover’s hands land on his legs again as he moves closer, slide up and up to push the skirt until it’s hiked up around his waist and out of the way. Cloud reaches back to line him up and takes a deep breath that’s punched out of him as soon as he slowly sinks down. He pauses just long enough to adjust and catch his breath again.

“Fuck, Cloud… So good, always so perfect for me,” Andrea says faintly, like he didn’t mean to say it at all, didn’t mean to break their careful silence again. His hands rub up and down the blond’s thighs, unconsciously soothing, and Cloud starts moving just to shut him up, just to replace the ache in his chest with the ache in his body. He lifts up, savoring the slight burn in his thighs, head tipping back to pant at the ceiling as he sinks back down. He sets the pace, riding Andrea slow and steady, completely in control.

Until he’s not.

Until his head is flooding itself with unwanted images, memories that haunt him every time he makes this same mistake, over and over again.

Andrea smiling, bright and real. Andrea with a beautiful woman on his arm. Andrea turning away from him when they pass each other on the street.

He isn’t his, Cloud already knows. Not outside of these secret, stolen nights. He should probably feel guilty for what he _does_ take. He doesn’t.

He will in the morning, though. Always does.

Cloud bites his lip, disguises it as ecstasy when all he really want is to bite straight through it. Curls his fingers into fists against Andrea’s chest but doesn’t scratch along the way. For all the marks that Andrea leaves on Cloud, he’s careful to never leave a single one on Andrea. No evidence left behind. He tries to force it out of his mind, tries not to think. Halfway succeeds when Andrea thrusts up and shocks a soft exhale out of him. He forces all of his attention back to this moment, tries to memorize it—the feel of Andrea underneath him, the sweat shining on his brow, the taste of his lips.

When Cloud comes, it’s with a quiet moan that he doesn’t let turn into Andrea’s name, his lover surging up against him and fingers digging into his skin. Cloud rolls off of him, gasping for breath, and stays lying there for longer than he means to. Closes his eyes as he feels Andrea shifting around and standing up. Hears his footsteps retreat, the sound of water running in the bathroom. He inhales sharply when a wet washcloth lands on his stomach, and opens his eyes again.

Cloud cleans himself off, not looking at Andrea as he lies back down, and lets himself stay where he is for another minute or two while he gathers what little courage he has left. Then he sits up, swings his legs off the bed, and swallows down heartbreak to say what he should have months ago: “We have to stop this… Your _girlfriend_ deserves better.” He pauses, turning his head to (not quite) look at Andrea over his shoulder. “I kept waiting for you to say something, kept justifying to myself that it wasn’t my fault if we kept this trainwreck going until you did, but… Were you _ever_ going to tell me that you already had someone? That I’m just your dirty little secret?” (And _oh_ , the irony tastes bitter as the words hit his tongue, but it wasn’t _his_ choice to make, hasn’t been in a long time.)

“What?” Andrea asks, huffing out a weak laugh and leaning to brush his fingers down Cloud’s arm. He jerks away. “Is _that_ why you—?” The blond glances up just in time to catch Andrea’s sad smile. “Oh darling… We’ve just been wasting each other’s time, haven’t we?” he asks, and it feels like a kick to the gut. Leaves Cloud gasping for breath like one too.

“…Yeah, I guess we have,” he agrees through gritted teeth. He stands, gathering his clothes and slipping them back on as he takes a moment to brace himself to walk out the door. _It_ _’ll be the last time,_ he promises himself.

Andrea’s voice stops him before he can even turn the handle. “Why do you think I have someone else?”

“Why do you think? Because I _saw_ you together! Saw you beaming at each other, saw you hug her and kiss her cheek, saw you parade her around town in broad daylight like you were _proud_ of her!” Cloud pauses, bites his lip, forces his volume back under control. “What I don’t understand is why you’d _choose_ to ruin something like that. Obviously I don’t know anything about your relationship, but you both looked fucking _happy_. Happiness is such a rare thing in this world, and… and you dragged me into the middle of this unknowingly, and I just kept fucking coming back even after I found out. And now _destroying_ that happiness is on me just as much as it is on you, and I’m not sure which of us I hate more for it.”

Andrea fucking _laughs_. Small and pitiful, but still a laugh, and it just winds Cloud up even more. “Cloud, can you please… describe this woman for me?”

The blond raises a disbelieving eyebrow but says scathingly, “Sure. Pretty tall, taller than me in her heels. Long, brown, wavy hair. Curvy. Good fashion sense. That’s about all I could tell from where I was. Ringing any bells yet, or have you fucked over so many people that you can’t keep track of them all?”

Andrea huffs, not quite a laugh this time. “Well, tell me how you _really_ feel, why don’t you?” he mutters, expression darting between hurt and anger. Cloud feels a vicious stab of satisfaction at putting them on more even footing. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding somewhere,” Andrea says, even as he stands and starts redressing. He passes Cloud without so much as glancing at him, out of the bedroom and down the hall to hold the front door open. “And maybe if you’d just _asked_ , instead of assuming that I’m the kind of terrible person you’re making me out to be, then we could’ve talked it out peacefully. But right now, I really just want you to leave.”

A moment of confusion and regret that he _can_ _’t_ let himself feel the full brunt of. Cloud holds his head high, but doesn’t quite manage to meet Andrea’s eyes as he walks past him. Ice in his voice that’s only half real. “Gladly.”

He doesn’t let himself look back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'll be honest, this got so OOC. Cloud unexpectedly got really emotional, and I just kinda ran with it. XD;
> 
> ETA: If anyone's interested, I made a tiny playlist for this fic [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/14RAlbIUnPZSt8yiqmSvTE?si=WihDFwOJSleyNgYVWJZwzw) :)

Cloud goes back to his “normal” life. Alternates between trying not to think of Andrea at all and trying to pretend that it’s just one of the many days or weeks that they’d gone without seeing each other in between their rendezvous. Busies himself with helping out Tifa and Wymer and Folia. Shoves the one skirt he’d accidentally kept, the one he’d stormed out in, to the far side of the closet and does his best to ignore its existence.

Andrea seeks him out after a week and corners him in Seventh Heaven. Tifa glances between them curiously but says nothing, only nudges Cloud and jerks her head toward Andrea. Cloud turns to look and his breath catches on the way in, shakes on the way out. He considers just ignoring Andrea or telling him to leave, but if he doesn’t listen, then… They’re not having this conversation _here_ , that’s for damn sure. “I have to go, sorry,” he mutters to Tifa. She nods, squeezing his arm with a concerned expression. He wants to soothe her worries but doesn’t have the slightest clue what he could say.

Cloud drops the rag he’d been cleaning with onto the counter and walks past Andrea. As expected, the other man follows him out. They don’t say a word the whole way to Cloud’s apartment. He hesitates to let Andrea inside; he never has before, and this feels like the worst possible time to do so. Still, if the alternative is doing this somewhere public… He sighs and unlocks the door, goes to lean against the opposite wall with his arms crossed. Waits for the other man to close the door and start talking.

Andrea looks nearly as frustrated with the situation as Cloud. He stands stiffly, watching the blond for a long minute before speaking. “I was pissed the other night. Still kind of am,” he starts, and Cloud rolls his eyes.

“Join the club. That what you came all this way to say?”

Andrea’s jaw clenches. He takes a deep breath, lets it out through his nose, and continues talking as if Cloud hadn’t interrupted him. “But I’d _like_ to believe that we’re both adults here and can talk this out,” he says pointedly. “I think there are a few things that need to be cleared up, things that we _both_ misunderstood.”

“…Like what?” Cloud asks against his better judgment. He’s spent the past week wondering what Andrea meant when he left. Trying desperately _not_ to wonder. Not to cling to shreds of _what-if_ s and _maybe_ s. But despite it all, he still curious. Still wants ( _needs_ ) to know.

“Like the fact that the woman you saw me with is my _sister_ , you ass,” Andrea says, voice torn between genuine anger and amusement. “ _Yes_ , I was happy to see her—I hadn’t in almost two years. And _yes_ , I was proud to show her off—she just got accepted into her dream school, and even if she hadn’t, I’m just generally proud of her because she’s my _little sister_. I don’t have a girlfriend, haven’t _cheated_ on anyone,” he adds, practically spitting the word. “And I could understand you misinterpreting what you saw. Would’ve been happy to explain the truth and clear the air. But then you had to go and accuse me of… What was your wording again?” He pauses, feigns thought. “Oh, right. ‘Fucking over so many people I can’t keep track of them all.’ And I just—What kind of person do you think I _am?_ ”

Cloud doesn’t answer for a minute, thoughts rushing and pulse pounding in his ears. His chest aches again, and he has the sinking feeling that it’s nobody’s fault but his own this time. Because there’s no denying that he fucked up, that any chance there _might_ have been is gone _because of him_. “…I’m sorry,” he says quietly. Not something he says often, not _easy_ to say, but necessary. The rest is even harder to admit to, though. “I… didn’t mean that, really. I was hurt, I was mad, and I went too far.”

“…Thank you,” Andrea says eventually, sounding like he’s been caught off-guard. Like he didn’t expect him to own up to anything, and why would he, really? It's not like Cloud's given him any reason to before now. “I’m… sorry, too. That I didn’t _see_ how upset you were, and let you believe what you did for so long.” Cloud makes a quiet, surprised noise, and he explains, “I haven’t seen my sister in _months_ , Cloud.. I should’ve realized something was wrong long before it got this far.”

Cloud glances away for a moment, grits his teeth. Because even if everything Andrea says is true, there’s still so much wrong here, and if it’s not because he’s already seeing someone, then—He _has_ to know. Doesn’t want to. Can’t bear to ask. _Needs_ to.“Then why—?” Cloud cuts himself off, pursing his lips.

“…Why what?”

He hesitates a few seconds longer, huffs out a sigh before spilling his guts. “Why only meet me in the middle of the night? Why only call me ‘yours’ when there’s no one around to hear it? Why _never_ fucking let me in or say a goddamn word to me that actually _means_ anything?” He can’t stop the way his voice rises as he goes on, can’t keep the anger ( _pain_ ) out of it. Knows he’s leading them around in circles that will only hurt both of them more, but can’t seem to stop.

Andrea’s face scrunches in a mix of confusion and disbelief. “…You think I was _ashamed_ of you, don’t you?” Cloud doesn’t reply, but he bites his cheek and turns his gaze out the window, which is answer enough. Andrea huffs out a humorless laugh. “You have this so backward you’re making me dizzy, Cloud.”

“What are you talking about?” the blond asks, eyes hard when he meets Andrea’s again.

“I seem to recall that _you_ were the one who said you wanted to keep this just between us.”

“Yeah, at first! Fucking…!” Cloud snarls, tugging at his own hair in frustration. “ _Forgive me_ for needing a bit of a fucking adjustment period, some time to figure things out for _myself_ , and to test the waters with my friends before going to them with, ‘Oh hey, by the way, I’m fucking Andrea Rhodea! Also, turns out that sometimes I’m really into dressing up and being treated like a woman!’ That’s a _lot_ of shit for me to come to terms with, much less bring up to anyone else, and in case you haven’t noticed, Barret and his gun are _literally_ inseparable! I wasn’t about to risk my own ass before I was sure they wouldn’t all freak out about it!” He stops, breathing heavily, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Cloud can’t even remember the last time he got so worked up about something, but this anger has been slowly building for _months,_ and he _needs_ Andrea to understand that Cloud doesn’t come from the same perfect little fantasy world he crawled out of. That he doesn’t have the same luxury to just _assume_ he’ll be gifted with freedom and non-judgment.

Andrea stares at him for a while, face unreadable. When he finally speaks again, it’s with a level tone and carefully chosen words. “I’ll accept that I didn’t do enough to make you feel _valued_ , and I’m sorry for that. But you _cannot_ lay this all on me, Cloud. You have your share of the blame, too. It is _not_ my fault that you never said anything before now. Not my fault that I chose respecting _your_ wishes and your safety over what _I_ wanted. Not my fault that I didn’t know things had changed, or that you even _wanted_ them to change.”

Every fucking word hits like a well-placed bullet, because Cloud knows he’s right. He _knows_ he should have said something, should have made it clearer, but words have never been all that easy for him, and… “I tried,” he says quietly, the fire suddenly leaving him all at once. He swallows and sinks down onto the bed. Stares at the closet door instead of Andrea. “I tried to show you. Tried to meet you during the day, tried to have actual _conversations_ with you, wore your fucking earrings in the hopes that you’d see that it _meant_ something when you gave them to me. And you turned away every time. And then I saw you with your—” Cloud waves his hand vaguely. “Sister, _apparently—_ and suddenly everything made a lot more sense. Or maybe it was just easier to believe than the alternative.”

“…What alternative?” Andrea asks quietly, like he already knows.

Cloud doesn’t answer for a long minute, the stabbing pain in his chest familiar but no less debilitating for it. He swallows, wets his lips. “That whatever we had meant _nothing_ to you and _everything_ to me.” His voice shakes, but there it is. Everything on the line, finally, because what more does he have to lose? Andrea falls silent again. Cloud doesn’t look at him, doesn’t want to know what his expression will reveal. “It’s almost funny, isn’t it? That I let it get so far when really, we hardly even know each other, do we?” The other man still doesn’t respond, and Cloud’s eyes burn. He blinks, holds it together because he _has_ to, because he isn’t this _weak_. Can’t be. The bed sinks suddenly as Andrea sits next to him, a hand landing on his knee, and Cloud jumps. Still doesn’t turn to look at him.

It takes another minute or two before Andrea speaks. When he does, it’s hardly more than a whisper. “I’m sorry that I made you believe that. I… I _tried_ to make it mean nothing,” he admits reluctantly. “I didn’t think you _wanted_ it to. You were reaching out, and I didn’t understand at all. I thought you were trying to make concessions, apologies for keeping us hidden. I didn’t want you if it was only as a compromise… If _you_ didn’t actually want me.” Cloud doesn’t reply; he’s already said everything there is to say. “I think… I think that we have to start over completely. Learn how to trust each other, how to actually _talk_ to each other. I think this was a pretty good start,” Andrea says, laughter in his voice even though there really isn’t anything funny about it. He hesitates before finishing, “ _If_ you want to try again, I mean.”

Cloud wants to say no. Doesn’t think he can handle going around and around like this again. But the other option, just giving up without a fight? It’s not an option at all, not for him. He lifts his hand, hovers for a moment and takes a deep breath before placing it over Andrea’s. “…Yeah. Yeah, I wanna try. Do you really think I would’ve said all that if I didn’t?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “So… Where do we even start?”

Andrea glances out the window; there’s still a few hours left before the ‘suns’ set. “…How about with a dinner date? A real one.”

“Yeah,” Cloud says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He tries a smile, isn’t quite sure if he manages it or not. “Yeah, that sounds… nice.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Andrea asks as he stands, gently pulls Cloud up with him, and leads him to the door. His smile is small but mischievous as he asks, “So, what’s my girl craving tonight?”

Cloud flushes slightly, a familiar shiver running down his spine. He glares, but even he knows the attempt is weak. “If we’re starting from the complete beginning, then you shouldn’t be saying shit like that,” he points out, though he can’t hide the amusement underlying the words.

Andrea winks. “Well, just because we’re starting over doesn’t mean I can erase my memories. And why would I even try when I know how much you love it? Besides, weren't you _just_ complaining about me not calling you _mine_ enough?”

“Let’s just go,” the blond says, rolling his eyes and doing his best to ignore the pleased warmth in the pit of his stomach.

“Gladly, but you haven’t answered the question.”

Cloud can feel himself standing at the edge of a cliff. Hesitates for just a moment before diving off head-first. “Seventh Heaven,” he says decisively. “I’m craving some of Tifa’s cooking.”

It’s worth it for the fresh start. Worth it for a chance to heal and avoid hurting each other in the same ways again. Worth it for the way Andrea smiles at him, warm and surprised, and doesn’t let go of his hand when they open the door.


End file.
